


The Masked Thieves

by SnowXeno



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game), Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Open Ending, Self-Indulgent, howdy howdy howdy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:48:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21868528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowXeno/pseuds/SnowXeno
Summary: Arthur wakes up to noises coming from the supplies area...it's not rats...that's for sure.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	The Masked Thieves

**Author's Note:**

> Got really into RDR2 again and I still really love DBD....so...i combined them. The ending isn't the best because I hit some really bad writer's block, but at least it leaves more for me to continue off of.

Arthur's eyes slowly opened. It wasn't unlike him to wake up in the night because of nightmares, but this time it was different. Quietly, Arthur stood from the bed and slinked over to John's room, shaking him awake and trying not to wake Jack or Abigail in the process. "Get up, I think someone might be in camp”. 

John groaned and got up, grabbing his guns, “Arthur there ain’t no way anyone could get in without anyone see’em.” 

Arthur sighed and shook his head, “I know, but I know I heard something, it could just be a coon or some shit...but I just have a feeling, John, alright?” John grunted in response and followed behind Arthur. 

Arthur didn’t bother checking with the members who were supposed to be watching the camp, instead, he went to where he claimed to have heard the noises, creeping up on the wagon. Arthur held out his arm, motioning John to stop. They watched as a small female frame quietly crawled out with supplies in hand, quietly putting them in a small basket before crawling back in. Nearby, they saw a taller female keeping watch. They seemed to be unarmed for the most point, except for the larger lady having a knife in hand. John gave Arthur a confused look, who returned it with an equally puzzled expression. They swiftly moved to a better position to watch them. They weren't going to let them leave, but they had to know if there was more than just the two of them.

John nudged Arthur, motioning with his head towards one of the abandoned buildings were two other figures emerged with more of their supplies. One had to be one of the tallest men Arthur had ever seen. The small group seemed to be working fluidly together as they took only a small part of the Van Der Lin gang's supplies, stuffing what they could into bags and keeping the rest in a few small crates. 

What stood out about this small gang was the freaky masks they wore. Three wore white ones, the other appeared to be a crude skull bandana. The tall feller seemed to be in charge of everything, silently telling each one what to do. 

Arthur led the way up behind the small group, cocking his gun once he was close enough, "Turn around and put the supplies. Try anythin' and I won't hesitate to shoot you down." He snarled. John walked up beside Arthur, his gun also trained on a member of the group. 

The small group turned their gaze to what Arthur assumed was their leader, who nodded at them and slowly set what he was carrying down and kept his hands up in the air. The other three followed his actions. "John, go wake up Dutch and grab Bill or someone else to come to help me secure these four". John nodded and swiftly headed back inside. 

Arthur drew his second pistol, keeping each one aimed at a member. "And take those stupid masks off" Arthur grunted, flicking his guns up at their heads. Hesitantly, each pulled their hoods down and removed their masks, revealing 4 young faces. 

In the moonlight, Arthur could make out only a few details of each member. The tall one, the leader, had their hair cut short, shaved tight to the sides. He seemed older than the other three, rough facial hair on his jaw, maybe no younger than 25, decently built, he was wearing all black. The other male beside the leader, dark hair, dark skin, he seemed like a shadow in the night. He and the taller girl were about the same height, the girl maybe an inch or two taller. Both were close to the same build, the boy was maybe only just a little more muscular. The taller girl had short, roughly cut hair, jaw length, wearing clothing in a similar style to the leader. The smallest of the group was a young girl, He couldn’t make much out about her, the same with the second boy. She had darker tanned skin and her hair seemed to be a reddish color. 

Arthur frowned, not taking his eyes off the group as he heard footsteps approaching. Not having to confirm who it was as he heard Dutch scoff as he walked out. “Arthur, what am I looking at?” 

“Well, Dutch, it looks like we have some thieves trying to take our supplies,” Arthur sighed.

“Someone tie them up. We can deal with this in the morning,” Dutch said, walking back in. Arthur and John looked at each other and sighed in unison and started to lead the small group towards an area to store them till morning, securely restraining each of them.

The rest of the night was uneventful, John and Arthur took turns sleeping and keeping watch on their new “guests”. When the sun finally rose and Dutch was awake, they pulled the group out of the small shack they tucked them into. 

In the light, Arthur could see the finer details of their new acquaintances. The leader was a strange lookin’ feller; he was coated in scars, his eyes were mismatched, one a dark brown, the other seemed to be the color of a blind man’s eyes, but as if it had aged and greyed over time. He had a nasty look on his face, one that could kill. 

The younger boy looked no older than eighteen, his face mostly unscarred with two bright, innocent-appearing, green eyes. He had short black hair, the best Arthur could describe it as would be like Lenney’s but almost a little longer. His skin was lighter now that he was in the sun, an almost reddish tint to it.

As for the two girls, the taller one, she had a light brown color to her hair, and light blue eyes, more lively than their leader’s. She seemed indifferent to the situation, but there was a fire in her eyes. 

As for the smallest of the group, she had to be not younger than sixteen. She was one of the Native American folk, her hair though had a more reddish tint to it than the usual darker brown or black. Her eyes matching the liveliness of her female counterpart, if not brighter than hers, but instead full of fear. 

Arthur felt his heart sink a little, they were just a bunch of stupid fuckin’ kids. "Arthur, are these our fine guests?"

"They sure are Dutch. What do you reckon we do with ‘em? They sure ain't O' Driscolls or Raiders. We might just have a small band of thieves on our hands." 

Dutch hummed, walking over to the small group and looked them over. "Which one of you was in charge of this little operation?" 

A sigh escaped the boy with the mismatched eyes, "Me."

"Do you know who we are?" Dutch asked, crouching down in front of him, holding one of the white masks in his hand.

"Well you ain't any god damn Raiders, that's for sure," the leader said, spat into the dirt. He shifted and sat up more so he could properly face Dutch. Arthur sighed and holstered his pistols and sat down on a hay bales. He watched as Dutch question their "guests", as Dutch kept calling them. 

Arthur jerked, snapping out of his daze as he heard Dutch shout in frustration, "What happened?"

"Somehow, these brats managed to get past our guards all night and took more than what you caught them with! I'm gonna need a damn good explanation of how this fucking happened!" Dutch snarled.

Arthur shook his head, as amused as he was, he didn't plan on showing it. "Alright then, Dutch, I'll figure out where they took it."

"Thank you, son. I'll leave it to you and John, you two seem to be the only two people capable of doing anything!" Dutch shouted as he walked off into the camp.

Arthur and John sighed and looked at the small group of thieves in front of them. "Alright, just make this easy on yourselves, where’s the goddamn supplies you stole?” 

Mismatched eyes met Arthur’s, their owner’s lips parting into a crooked smile, “What do I get in return for telling you where we put your shit?”

Arthur groaned, “You get to keep your life, now just tell me where you hid the supplies.” Arthur reached down and grabbed the tall leader, striking him harshly in the face, but only receiving a bloodied smile in return. 

“Is that the best you got, old man?” 

Arthur’s lip ticked as he picked up the young leader back up, “What the hell is wrong with you, kid? Christ, I suppose I won’t get shit outta you, so I guess I should move onto one of your little friends here.”

“Use your manners and maybe I’ll show you where we took your precious supplies.” The response was short and snappy, if anything rude, but Arthur was willing to take what he could just to get this over with.

Reaching down, Arthur sat the leader upright to spat bloodied spit into the dirt. “Alright then, kid, speak up and tell me-”

“Nuh-uh, I said show, not tell.”

John grabbed Arthur’s shoulder and pulled him to the side, “We can’t just let them go, Arthur.”

“You see, John, what we’re gonna do here is have them lead us while we happily stay in the back and keep our guns trained on them,” Arthur said, slapping John on the back before going back to their small group of trouble. “Now list-”

“We’re not deaf, we heard you, just free our legs and we’ll lead you to your shit, alright?” 

Arthur huffed and unsheathed his knife and promptly cut the ropes around their legs, hefting each one up to their feet. “Alright, now lead the damn way.” Arthur watched as the small group started walking, only to pause.

“We need our masks,” said the girl with the blue eyes, who turned to face Arthur.

“And why in Hell’s name would we give those back?” John huffed.

“Because why not,” the Native girl said, staring down the two men. 

John glanced over at Arthur who just sighed deeply and shrugged, walking over to the small stack of masks, “Maybe it’ll keep’em from comin’ back.” John rolled his eyes at that and watched as Arthur snapped each mask on the thieves’ faces, tying the skull bandana around the dark-skinned boy’s neck. The group looked at each other and chuckled. “Alright, what’s so funny.” The group kept giggling as if they were children as they seemingly snapped the ropes around that bound their arms. Arthur and John gawked at the small group in silence, who kept trotting along as if they hadn't done that. 

The two older men looked at each other and sped up to the small group. “Now hold on right there, how in the hell did you four manage that?” John spat.

“Easy, we keep more than one knife on us for exactly what happened. It’s not like ropes are iron, a simple razor can cut through them if you have the patience for it,” the darker-skinned boy chuckled. 

“This is getting annoying,” huffed the tallest of the group who stopped to turn around and face the older men. “Frank, Joey, Julie, Susie. There now you can stop gesturing and address us by names, I suppose that might be less confusing for a bunch of old men.”

“Old men…” John huffed.

"You know, you're a strange bunch," Arthur said, looking over the group again as the continued walking.

It took about a half an hour for the group to lead the two outlaws to their horses and a small wagon, which had several baskets loaded in it, full of the Van Der Lin gang’s supplies. Arthur and John looked at each other in slight amazement, the small group had to have been at it for hours, stealing their supplies. Arthur watched as the group hopped on their horses and looked at the two older men expectantly. “Well? Get in the wagon, we can’t keep you dear leader awaiting now can we?” the leader, who called himself Frank, huffed. 

John grunted and climbed into the wagon, Arthur hesitated for a second before following. They both were cautious and ready for an attack by the four thieves. 

It was certainly not what Arthur had been expecting, the small group showed no fear of the Van Der Lin Gang, no hostility, nothing. Honestly, he was surprised they didn't just kill him and John and take the shit they stole, not willingly bring it back in merry spirits. 

Well, to say the group was in merry spirits was an overstatement. They were simply calm and unbothered by what had just gone down, talking amongst their small band.

The group slowed their approach as they neared the front entrance of the camp, John and Arthur hopping out to escort the small group in. Arthur could feel the tension in the air as the gang came to grab the supplies, all of their eyes locked on the four thieves. All of them had their masks back on, the blank or faceless stares were the only things the Van Der Lin gang received before the group left, now without the supplies. Arthur wanted to ask what Dutch was thinking by just letting them go, but he figured Dutch probably had some “grand plan.”

It was not the last time Arthur spotted the 4 thieves, not that it was really hard to spot the odd band. He had watched them easily steal and pickpocket of everyone around them, sneak into houses and back out within minutes loaded with as much as they could before running off. It felt off, catching them in the act and just watching them go. He never interfered with their activities, and on the occasions, he had helped them out from a distance, not that they would ever know.

Arthur walked quietly down a small path, leading his horse behind him. It wasn’t unusual for him to take a break from riding once and awhile, and at the moment it felt calming, the trickling of a brook only a few paces away. Times like this allowed for his mind to relax, and for his eyes observe the beauty around him. 

A small crack, the snapping of a branch, is what awoke him from his small trance. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t one of the old men from the Van Der Lin gang. What are you doing so far away from home?” Arthur’s head snapped around, trying to pinpoint the area of the voice, but the mystery was solved as a tall, slim figure emerged from the shadows, along with three other shapes in different areas around Arthur. 

“Ain’t it a bit rude to intrude on a man’s walk?” Arthur said, his body tensed ready for a fight.

“Not if the people dropping in what to say hello,” one of the girls cooed. 

“Alright then...you’ve said yer hello’s now, now what do you want.”

The group giggled at each other, muffled whispers slipping from their masks. “We want, one thing, and that is that sweet aged pirate rum you’re hiding,” one of them replied.

Arthur stared at the group, “That’s it? That’s all you want?”

The chorus of laughter continued, “Yes, that’s all we want from you,” the so-called leader said, holding out his bandaged hands. Arthur stared at “Frank’s” hands before pulling out the bottle of rum and handing it over. The group celebrated briefly before looking back at Arthur, “Well, we weren’t expecting you to hand it over so easily. I suppose you’re not so bad for an outlaw. See you around, cowboy~” 

Arthur watched dumbly as the group dissipated back into the trees and brush, still in shock from the odd meeting. “Alright, I guess that's that then?” Arthur shook his head, a chuckle escaping his lips as he saddled back up on his horse and began to ride off, hearing laughing in the distance as he did so.


End file.
